Trapped in a Novel as the D-Class Alpha I Hated Most-Chapter 115: In Your Room.. Like Before..

I sink into the leather seat, my head falling back against the headrest. My eyes are squeezed shut, but it doesn’t help.

The image is burned behind my eyelids—the nurse’s wide eyes, her shocked face, the door closing on her hasty retreat.

God. What is she thinking right now?

What does she think we were doing?

My cheeks are still burning. I take a slow, deep breath, trying to will the embarrassment away.

Then, warmth.

A soft, warm breath brushes my cheek, then my jaw.

My eyes fly open.

Moon’s face is inches from mine. So close I can see the faint, darker ring around his irises. So close his breath still lingers on my skin.

I jerk back, pressing myself against the door.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

He pulls back, calm and unhurried, the picture of innocence.

"There was something on your face. I was helping."

"Helping?"

The word is a sharp, disbelieving echo.

"Like that?"

He looks at me, then slowly, deliberately, winks.

"Yes. Exactly like how you helped me when I was sleeping."

I stare at him, my mouth opening and closing.

Arguing with him is useless. It’s like shouting at a mirror.

I snap my mouth shut and turn my face to the window, frustration simmering under my skin.

The car glides through the gates of the Kael mansion. A guard opens my door before the vehicle fully stops. I step out, not looking back at him.

"You can take the car back to your hotel," I say flatly.

I don’t wait for an answer. I just walk, my steps quick, purposeful.

Stay near this Alpha and it’s nothing but trouble.

But I hear it. Footsteps. Following.

I stop. Turn. He’s there, a few paces behind, hands in his pockets, looking perfectly at home on my property.

"Why are you following me?"

He tilts his head. "Why can’t I?"

I press my fingers to my temple, where a dull, familiar ache is beginning to pulse.

"Moon. I don’t have the energy for this today."

He steps closer. "Didn’t you hear what the doctor said?" His voice drops, becomes almost soft.

"I’m a patient. You should be taking care of me. Instead, you’re trying to send me back to a cold, empty hotel room."

My jaw tightens. "You’re not a child."

"No," he agrees. Then, before I can process the shift, he’s walking past me, toward the mansion’s grand entrance.

"But from now on, I’m staying here. Until the shoot contract is over."

My eyes widen. "Here?!"

He doesn’t turn. His voice floats back to me, casual, final. "Yes. Here. With you." He pauses at the door, glances over his shoulder. A small, almost private smile.

"In your room. Like before. We used to share one, remember?"

I’m already moving, following him up the steps.

"Moon. No."

He doesn’t stop.

He just keeps walking, disappearing into the cool shadows of the foyer, leaving me standing on the threshold, my protests dying uselessly in my throat.

The hallway stretches endless before me, marble and memory. My eyes are fixed on the floor, my mind a storm of frustration.

I’m done with him.

Completely, utterly done.

Moon’s stubbornness is a force of nature, an immovable object I keep throwing myself against.

And all I wanted—all I wanted—was to spend a quiet day with Deniz. To hold his hand under the table. To steal kisses in empty conference rooms.

To just be with him.

But instead, I’m here.

Trapped in my own mansion with a self-declared houseguest who won’t stop looking at me like I’m a puzzle he’s determined to solve.

And Deniz. I haven’t even talked to him since last night.

He must be worried. He must be—

My fingers find my phone, pulling it from my pocket. I press the power button, the screen flooding with light.

Missed calls.

Messages.

I should call him. Right now. I need to hear his voice—

I collide with something soft.

Not a wall. Not furniture.

I look up, apology already forming on my lips.

"I’m sorr—"

Angel.

He stands before me, close enough that I can see the faint, almost invisible freckles dusted across his nose. His face is a careful, terrible blankness.

Unreadable. Distant.

I blink, confusion replacing my frantic thoughts.

"Angel? Are you okay?"

He doesn’t answer. Just gives a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. His gaze slides away from mine, and he moves to step around me, to continue his silent journey down the hall.

I watch him go, his name still hanging on my lips. And then it hits me, cold and sharp.

Dumb Neon. You completely forgot about him. You call him your family.

Is this how family treats each other?

This careless?

This... absent?

My feet move before my mind catches up. Three quick, desperate strides. My hand reaches out and closes around his wrist.

"Angel."

He stops. His back is to me, his shoulders a rigid, fragile line.

"Angel," I breathe, softer now.

"Please. Look at me."

A heartbeat. Two. Then, slowly, he turns. His gaze remains fixed on the floor between us, his lashes casting shadows on his pale cheeks.

I step closer. My hand releases his wrist and rises, my fingers finding the delicate curve of his chin. I lift, gently, inexorably, until his face tilts up and his eyes meet mine.

And I freeze.

His eyes are red-rimmed, swollen with unshed tears. Even as I watch, one escapes, sliding from beneath his golden lashes to trace a shimmering path down his flushed cheek.

Then another.

And another.

He’s crying.

Why is he crying?

My thumb moves on instinct, brushing the wetness from his skin. The tears are warm, silent, endless. "Angel," I whisper, my own voice cracking.

"Why are you crying?"

**************************

💠 Bonus: Zyren’s Room (Moon’s —POV)

Moon steps into the room, his blue gaze sweeping over every corner, analyzing the luxurious space. He whispers, almost to himself, "The room... it’s changed a lot."

Slowly, he lowers his eyes to the bed. After a pause, he falls onto it with a soft thud, pressing his face into the sheets. He inhales deeply, a smile spreading across his lips.

His fists clench the soft fabric as he takes another, more deliberate breath.

Whispering against the sheets, almost reverently, he murmurs, "They smell like him... sweet cherry blossoms. I can’t control myself..."